


In Sickness and Health

by FairyNiamh



Category: Friday the 13th: The Series (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Evil Doll, Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 10:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyNiamh/pseuds/FairyNiamh
Summary: Micki and Ryan are looking for the latest antique. Why does things like this happen to them?





	In Sickness and Health

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/gifts).



"What is it that we're looking for?" Ryan asked as he lifted a few papers.

Micki made a noise of exasperation, "For the fifth time, we need to find a doll."

Her cousin sighed and shook his head. "Let me try this again, what does it look like? There are millions of dolls out there."

"Oh, it's old. The doll was made in 1910 by an special doll maker in New Orleans."

"Okay, and what is this doll's story? I mean, did it kill a lot of people or something?" Ryan asked. He was far more interested in the story than he was the object, as per the norm.

Micki cleared her throat and started the tale. "Okay, in 1910, Gracie Bell was born and gifted with a special doll. She loved it and took it everywhere with her, even to her school house and church. In 1918 she came down with the flu."

"Isn't that the flu that killed off several hundred thousand people?"

"Hmm," she hummed as if in thought. "Your off in your numbers. Let's try a third of the world's population. 20 to 50 _million_ people. It was mostly the young and old who died, but it was not a pleasant death for anyone."

"Ouch, remind me to stock up on Nyquil and Sucrets when we get home," he muttered under his breath.

"Same. Anyway, Gracie Bell was on death's door. Her mother and father were actually talking to a priest about her last rights. While her parents were at church, her grandmother, Mary, agreed to watch her. Only, she didn't just watch her. She took her and her doll to a voodoo healer."

Ryan held up his finger and shook his head, "Okay, even to me, that sounds like a bad idea."

"Well, no one knew what the 'doctor' did to her, but she did get better."

"That's good," he chirped merrily.

"She also stopped aging," she continued with a grim grin.

He blinked at the news. "Oh, that's bad. That is messing with the natural order of the world."

"A family's love knows no boundaries," Micki said wisely.

"Wait, she went with her doll, what happened to the doll," he asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, according to Uncle Lewis' book, it acted similar to Dorian Gray's painting. Except, Gracie can look at and play with the doll," she explained calmly, as she pried open a crate.

"Well, that only makes the doll a hundred times creepier. How many people have died?" Ryan shuddered at the thought.

"So far? Only 8 deaths were suspicious. The only thing that they all had in common was that they were trying to destroy the doll."

"We're trying to destroy the doll," he manage to get out.

"Oh, come on. You know how Lewis liked to exaggerate for dramatic effect."

Ryan licked his lips and slowly reached for a loose board, never taking his eyes off a spot behind his cousin, "I don't think he was telling tall tales this time, Mick."

Micki turned around and yelled at hideous doll looking at her.

"Don't hurt her," a new voice of a young girl yelled from the only entrance.

"Gracie?" 

"Beth is a good girl and keeps me healthy," Gracie pleaded.

"She also kills people," Ryan chimed in as he inched his way closer to the doll.

"Only bad people. They wanted to hurt me, to hurt her."

"How old are you Gracie?" Micki asked softly.

"I'm eight, I've always been 8," the young girl cried out.

"No sweetheart, you are closer to 80," she reasoned.

"NO! I'M 8, I'M 8, I'M 8 AND YOU ARE DEAD," the little girl yelled out as the doll launched itself at Micki.

Ryan didn't think, he just swung the board and smashed the porcelain doll. He smack the doll a few more times, breaking it into as many pieces as he could without a hammer.

"Ryan, look," Micki whispered as she pointed in the direction of the little girl.

He held Micki close and tried to shield her eyes from the sight of the little girl rapidly aging and dying Gracie Ann.

He felt ill as the girl looked to approach her 40's and died, and then began to decay.

"Oh god," Micki whispered.

"At least we can lay her to rest. Come on, we need to go tell Jack what happened. He'll know exactly what to do," Ryan muttered as they made their way over to the door.

As they left, neither noticed the doll's head roll to face them and the lone eye pop open and to watch them leave.

~Fin~


End file.
